Pages

google analytics

Monday, September 29, 2014

A friend of mine just shared this very personal piece of writing. She has given me permission to post it here.

My dad’s father is dying - my grandfather, my step
grandfather, the guy who fathered and raised the guy who did not father me, but
raised me. It’s not so complicated these days as it once seemed. I’m not
sure what to say. I’m not so sure how to feel.

I was “not a real granddaughter” as this man’s wife
explained to me on a few occasions. Real grandchildren did not have
gapped teeth and short bodies with big bones. I was not Norwegian and
Dutch. I did not like lefsa. I was odd, bookish, loud,
pious. I could not even force myself to fit. I was an imposter, a
piece from a strange puzzle. I was a fan of the Bears when they cheered
for the Vikings, because they cheered for the Vikings.

On Christmas Eve I sat in the corner opening plain envelopes
addressed to “A.” (even my name was too strange for them) and inside I found unsigned
cards and gift certificates to stores at which I never shopped. My
cousins, to whom I was not actually related, tore into shimmering gift wrap and
opened boxes which contained actual things, while their parents lamented, “We
never know what to buy her.”

There’s a bitter and angry part of me that still finds it
difficult to be gracious when confronted with the gift of money or called by an
abbreviation of my given name. It’s hard to grieve a face of cruelty.

Yet, people are complicated and I will mourn with those who
mourn. Not because I have to, but because the same man, who has never
managed to see me as a “real” child in need of love and acceptance, has managed
to lavish my children with trinkets and holiday cards, and worn five dollar
bills. Somehow he has passed on an expanded form of his limited loyalty
and grace along with his corny sense of humor and enlarged heart to my
dad. And while he has certainly failed to see it, he has fulfilled the
wish of every parent: my dad (the man who did not father me but raised me)
is a better man than his dad (the man who fathered and raised him).
Perhaps grief is not as complicated as it once seemed.

StatCounter

sound cloud

vimeo

Total Pageviews

Copyright Notice

The artwork and music published on this blog are copyright 2010 - 2018 by Thatjeffcarter was here. All rights reserved. But I could be persuaded to let you use them. Contact me for permissions. "The views, comments, statements and opinions expressed on this Web site do not necessarily represent the official position of The Salvation Army." I am no longer with the Salvation Army, anyway.